Eileen Can Be Cool
by ckrets
Summary: And you thought the camping trip was over.
1. The Car

**A/N **This is a slight Rigleen follow-up to "Camping Can Be Cool." Originally a one-shot, this will be split into five parts for cleaner reading. I apologize for geographical, character-based, or any other types of inconsistencies. I don't own Regular Show.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Eileen Can Be Cool<strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>The Car<strong>

He certainly didn't plan for this to happen. No, Rigby didn't plan to go camping with Margaret and Eileen, but he certainly didn't plan for the entire incident to end up like this: having their secret camping spot discovered, not to mention running for their lives from some half-man, half-deer creature.

Although it was unplanned (life constantly worked that way), it strangely wasn't un_expected. _Why did every attempt Mordecai seized at winning Margaret always had to end up in a life or death situation? Whether those two simply weren't meant to be or Mordecai was just made of pure fail, that was just one of the many reasons Rigby had not wanted Margaret and Eileen to tag along.

But yet, he was slightly, _slightly_ glad they did. He _certainly_ didn't plan to be that friendly with Eileen, but there was always a first for everything, right? Before today, she was just that weird mole-girl, burying her "turtle eggs" and slipping away into the background of the Coffee Shop. Now, she was that weird mole-girl who could kick butt at video games, start fires from scratch, and name the constellations without even having to look up at the sky.

But she was still weird. She'd _always_ be weird.

Now Rigby found himself giving her—_Eileen—_a compliment as Margaret drove and the highway rolled on, stretching and stretching until it met the sunrise at the skyline. He didn't want to sit by her, but he nevertheless had to give that girl props for helping out to save everyone and whatnot.

The density of the forest had subsided, and for a long time, there was an expanse of open fields. They even passed by a small town, home to a quaint number of residents. As the car continued to roll across the highway for a few hours, a new forest gradually sprung up again. Narrow bypasses swerved into the woods to alert drivers that cities were still near, merely obscured by foliage.

"Hmm, looks like we'll be running out of gas soon," Margaret declared to no one in particular. "I think there's a stop coming up ahead…Mordecai?" Margaret rubbernecked to Mordecai, who was right next to Rigby in the back seat of the car.

"Yeah Margaret?" the blue jay responded in a rather swift tone.

"Could you check the map and find out when we'll be hitting the exit to the nearest gas station?"

"Sure thing," Mordecai replied, smiling at Margaret sincerely. Margaret gave Mordecai a slight smile back, then turned her attention back to the road. The red robin turned on the radio, a couple of catchy tunes and one not-so catchy tunes being strung together in the lineup.

"I hope an exit's coming up soon," Rigby piped in briefly. "I really gotta use the bathroom." Rigby kicked back and folded his arms, catching stray glances from Eileen here and there. He raised a brow, deciding to take heed. "What?"

"Oh, it's just," Eileen stuttered, "I was just thinking that we didn't finish our match. You know, since we were caught up in being hunted for food and all."

Rigby sat up. "Huh?" Their match had ended awhile ago. It was weird how Eileen had somehow brought it up again, especially hours after Margaret had started driving. Oh well. Another game couldn't hurt, and Eileen was probably tired before from being nearly killed earlier this day.

"Oh yeah," the raccoon mumbled, "I guess we didn't." He grinned confidently, taking out his handheld and leaning forward. "Why don't we start over, then? I am so going to _win._"

Rigby was rather impressed over Eileen's gaming skills, and compared to most girls he knew, she could really tear it up in battle. Well, Rigby hardly knew any girls outside Margaret and Eileen. _Okay,_ he didn't know any outside of those two. But still.

Eileen's face lit up as she nodded slowly. "Is that so?" she challenged, fumbling to get her own handheld. She gripped it tightly. "Because I'm pretty sure _I_ am going to beat you."

"Pfff," Rigby scoffed, "you _wish._" Eileen couldn't help but smile at Rigby, who grinned at her cockily.

"Uh, woops."

Rigby and Eileen, who were both on the brink of firing up their video game systems for a rematch, paused to turn around and face Mordecai.

"Mordecai, what is it?" Rigby asked, but the moment the question slipped out, the answer was self-explanatory, being written all over his best friend's face. Mordecai, however, gave the answer nonetheless.

"I forgot to tell you that we _kinda_ missed the exit for the gas station," the blue jay uttered slowly. Rigby let his disapproval show through frowns and a "Dude, _why?_" while Eileen just nodded sadly. Mordecai smiled nervously, looking as if he was resisting the desire to slap himself across the face. "Sorry."

"That's fine, Mordecai," Margaret called out from the driver's seat. "I'll just turn back and-"

As if on cue, an unfortunately, perfectly-timed cue, the car's engine coughed to halt. She sent Mordecai a look that mixed the helplessness and frustration of not only herself, but of the current setback she now had to deal with.

"Thanks a lot, _Mordecai._ How are we supposed to get home now?" Rigby grumbled, shooting his friend another glare. Great. First they get wrapped up in a do or die situation, now they have no means of transportation _and_ he had to pee. "And I seriously have to go use the bathroom."

"Dude, if you have to use the bathroom, just take a whiz out in the woods," Mordecai countered. He chuckled, appearing quite amused. The expression on Rigby's face evidently showed he was not pleased. "Besides, it's not like anyone's gonna look."

"No _way,_" the raccoon yelled, waving his arms in an additional sign of disdain. "And get attacked by another one of those freakish deer creatures, _again?_ Pfff, not a chance."

"He's got a point," Margaret stated simply from the driver's seat.

"I concur," said Eileen. She pushed her glasses further up her nose. "Though the probability of that happening twice in the same day is slim to none, I still don't think it's such a good idea."

Rigby, despite being angry with Mordecai, along with trying to suppress his bladder urges, managed to grin contentedly. He crossed his arms and arched a brow triumphantly. Mordecai took notice to that and crossed his arms, mimicking Rigby. He rolled his eyes and sighed, "Ugh, _fine. _Why don't we all walk towards the gas station and see if we can get this car towed?"

"Really?" Rigby whined, his face in pure disbelief. "After all that running we did, now we have to get up and get moving again?" Oh, and not to mention to possibility of being attacked by a deer-man. _Again._

"Rigby," Mordecai sighed in annoyance, "what other options do we have? We need to get home, and you can only hold the urge to pee for so long." Mordecai rubbed his head in thought. "I think it's the only shot we've got. C'mon everyone; let's go."

"But how far away is it?" Margaret asked, not even bothering to unbuckle her seatbelt. Mordecai was the only one unbuckled; everyone else just stared at the blue jay listlessly.

"Oh don't worry Margaret," Eileen reassured. "I'm sure we won't have to walk too far. Mordecai did say we barely missed it."

Mordecai grabbed the map and scanned it. He sighed, "Yeah, um, it's about fifteen miles away. But hey, I'm sure we can make it there and back in no time at all." The blue jay smiled uneasily, shrugging.

Everyone except Mordecai exchanged skeptic glances. Rigby had a look of displeasure while Eileen and Margaret seemed to have given up hope. "I don't know," the red robin uttered doubtfully, "it's pretty risky. Maybe we should just wait until a car passes by. We can thumb for help then."

"Oh no no no," Rigby disagreed hastily, "there's not gonna be a car passing by for hours. And what if we get attacked by that deer guy again?"

"Are you still _scared_ over that whole incident?" Mordecai asked in interest. "Wow, Rigby, way to be a man. I swear, you've mentioned that at least twice already. We're hours away from the area he was at. Stop being such a baby and if you need to pee, just go. _Baby._"

"STOP TALKING."

Mordecai sneered, "Whatever man. I say we go for it."

"Look," the raccoon huffed, "I want to get out of here as soon as possible. I just don't want to have to walk for two miles. It's risky. Okay?"

"_Dude,_" Mordecai frowned, "you don't want to walk towards the gas station but yet you want to leave right away? That doesn't even make any _sense,_ but then I guess nothing does, not when _you're_ trying to use logic. Well if you're so dead-set on leaving, why don't _you_ come up with a clever way to try to get us out of here?"

Rigby gave Mordecai another one of his fierce looks. "Don't you point the finger at me," he growled, pointing a finger at Mordecai. "_You're_ the one who didn't tell Margaret the nearest exit."

The blue jay slapped his forehead, taking a deep breath and subconsciously crumpling the map that rested on his lap. "Ugh, I wasn't 'pointing fingers' at you. Sheesh…"

"Look guys," Eileen uttered firmly, "all of this arguing isn't going to get us anywhere. We have probably wasted five minutes listening to you two argue. Does anyone have a phone?" Everyone shook their heads. The mole-girl mused, "Hmm. Perhaps there's a call box nearby? We can have someone come over and tow the car to the gas station without having to walk very far."

"And how long will that take?" Rigby asked as a slim sliver of hope gleamed faintly in his eyes.

"Well," Eileen began, "the time it takes for them to arrive ranges from thirty minutes to two hours." Everyone groaned, obviously dissatisfied with Eileen's answer. The mole-girl merely smiled, "Don't worry. Better late than never, right?"

"But we can't possibly wait that long," Margaret sighed, giving a quick shake of her head before she reclined back in her seat.

"Mordecai," Eileen said, "can I see the map?"

"Oh, sure Eileen, hold on-"

"_I'll_ give her the map," Rigby declared abruptly. He snatched the map from Mordecai's grasp just as the blue jay reached over to get it. "You'll probably read it wrong or something."

"Now _who's_ the one with the high school diploma here?" Mordecai huffed in amusement. Oh no. Oh _no._ Mordecai had gone too far this time…

"STOP TALKING."

The blue jay rolled his eyes. "Give me the map, dude," Mordecai commanded, narrowing his eyes at Rigby. He snatched it from the raccoon's grip. "I was just about to give it to Eileen."

Rigby grabbed the map, but Mordecai maintained a firm hold on it. "No way. _I_ was just about to give it to Eileen." Rigby honestly did not know what the H was Mordecai's problem. He just wanted to give Eileen the map so she could figure out a way to get them home. He attempted to pull it out of Mordecai's grasp, yanking it tightly. It only budged slightly.

"Uh, guys?" Eileen asked timidly, pointing to the map in the same manner as her tone. Neither of the two even glanced at her, as both of them continued to tug on the map. "Guys?" she asked, almost pleadingly. Eileen glimpsed at Margaret for support, but her friend was occupied, staring off emptily into space.

"Why do you have to be so annoying?" Mordecai grumbled. Yank.

"Why do _you_ have to be so annoying?" Rigby retorted lamely, pointing another finger at his friend. Tug, yank.

And before anyone knew it, the interior of the car was strewn with bits and pieces of what once could be classified as a "map." Mordecai stared at Rigby; Rigby stared at Mordecai. Eileen stared at Rigby who stared at Mordecai who shifted his attention from Rigby to Margaret, who was still staring off emptily into space. Mordecai and Rigby both stared at Eileen sheepishly, who in return, stared at both of them with a sympathetic smile.

"Uhhh, sorry about the map," Mordecai mumbled.

"Yeah," Rigby uttered, "sorry."

"We can't waste any more time," Eileen declared quite boldly, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the car door. She stood up, both feet planted on the pavement and one hand loosely gripping the door. "I'm going to walk over to the gas station. And you guys can just sit tight and wait over here, okay?"

Just as Eileen was about to slam the door, Mordecai stopped her with a simple gesture of his wing. "Wait," he said swiftly, "you can't possibly go alone, can you?"

It was her turn to raise a hand. "Oh no, it's fine," Eileen insisted. "Besides, I used to get lost in the woods a lot, remember? I know I can follow the highway and find my way to something as obvious as a gas station. And the skies are clear and sunny. No worries, alright?"

Mordecai merely arched an eyebrow as the mole-girl shut the car door to a tight click. He glanced at Rigby, who was noticeably trying to resist bladder temptations. "Dude, you know what?" Mordecai asked as he gazed down onto the raccoon.

Rigby glanced towards his friend. "What?"

"I think you should totally go with her," the blue jay stated simply.

The raccoon shook his head furiously, "No _way._ I'm going to look like a little tag along, and do you know what that'll imply? She'll think I'll like her—which I _don't—_and then everything will go downhill from there."

The blue jay's face darkened into a glare. "Dude, it's like _you_ said: what if the deer man comes back? Do you honestly want to let her go out there by herself?"

"Well if you're so worried about her, why don't you go out there with her?" Rigby countered. Mordecai motioned his head towards Margaret, who seemed to be shaking her head in disbelief. Rigby rolled his eyes. Margaret had, without a doubt, lost hope in Mordecai and Rigby and had most likely put all her faith in Eileen. "No. No. No. No. _No,_" the raccoon grumbled.

"Come on Rigby," Mordecai pleaded. He examined the raccoon closely. "You still need to go take a whiz anyways, so once you're done with that, you can go catch up to Eileen. While you're with her, I'll thumb for a ride just in case a car passes by. Come on Rigby…what if something happens to her?"

Rigby folded his arms tightly across his chest. Just because he thought Eileen was less lame (by a fraction, mind you) than when they first started the camping trip doesn't mean he was going to _escort_ her to the gas station. She was still Eileen, after all, and despite everything they went through in the recent past, Rigby didn't want her to get any ideas about him _liking_ her. No, no. He definitely did not want that to happen.

"So what?" Rigby shrugged. "She's a big girl. She can take care of herself. She survived in the woods alone, remember?"

Mordecai mimicked Rigby and crossed his arms. He let an icy, bitter stare descend from his eyes into Rigby's. The raccoon looked into his friend's eyes with a firm defiance, a firm defiance that lasted for only a few seconds. Rigby exhaled deeply, defeated.

"Fine, I'll go," he muttered, "but first, I'm gonna pee." He was a simple guy with simple needs, after all.

Rigby unbuckled his seatbelt slowly. He slid towards the edge of the seat and unlocked the car door.

Margaret finally spoke. "Hey Rigby," she uttered, "take good care of Eileen, okay?" Rigby just grunted, nodding slowly. The raccoon wasn't confident in how beneficial he would be to a girl who could start her own fires, but he assumed that he could be Eileen's muscle.

"Besides," the robin began again, "Eileen can be cool."

Mordecai waved to him, almost victoriously. Rigby sighed once more before slamming the door and trudging into the woods deep enough so no one could see.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 1 of 5.<strong>


	2. The Road

**The Road**

He didn't exactly understand _why_ he was even bothering to accompany Eileen. Stupid Mordecai, turning the raccoon's own glares against him. In spite of Rigby's unshakeable determination, Mordecai somehow convinced him otherwise. After all, if wasn't for Mordecai, Eileen and Margaret wouldn't even be with them right now. And Eileen? _Cool?_ Hmph, sure. The robin was definitely exaggerating on that one.

Rigby also didn't understand _why_ he was still thinking about complimenting Eileen, helping her, oh and, _thinking_ about her. Especially while he was…yeah. No, no. The raccoon shoved the thoughts of the camping trip and decided to stop questioning every "positive" action he made towards Eileen. The more he _thought_ about it, the more he realized he was still _thinking_ about her. And the more he was still _thinking_ about her, the more he was _still_ thinking about _her._

He might as well just take all of those confusing thoughts out of his head and focus on the task at hand: reaching the gas station.

After taking a leak, Rigby proceeded to make his way back on to the road, racing towards Eileen. No, the term "racing" seemed too…clingy. Rigby was simply catching up to her so she wouldn't be so alone. She had made quite an amount of distance in the five or so minutes Rigby had spent arguing with Mordecai.

"Eileen," he called out hesitantly, and the mole-girl turned around to face him, rather caught off-guard.

"Rigby?" she asked, blushing faintly. Eileen lifted an arm, shielding her eyes from the rays of the fixated sun. "What are you doing here? Aren't you afraid of being attacked by that deer-man again?"

The raccoon's face contorted into a frown, and he crossed his arms. Fan_tastic._ What use was it being Eileen's muscle if she herself believed he was not even suited for the job? Huffing, Rigby replied, "What? No _way_. I'm not afraid of that creep. Besides, it's daytime now."

"Oh," Eileen uttered, though a tinge of skepticism was evident on her face. She giggled, "So if it was nighttime again, you'd be scared?" Eileen's grin widened as Rigby's mouth curved further downward. When the only response Eileen got was a "hmph," she simply shrugged, most likely a sign of disregard to what she previously said.

In attempt at conversation, Rigby asked, "So, um. Eileen?" It was out of the blue and not exactly the phrase Rigby had in mind, but it would have to suffice for the moment.

The mole-girl glanced at Rigby with the simplest tilt of her head. "Yeah Rigby?" she replied, almost too timidly. Eileen shoved her hands into her hoodie's pocket and let her gaze incline towards the pavement.

Rigby raised his arms behind his head. He relaxed his muscles in order to appear nonchalant. "We still didn't get to finish our match, y'know."

Stupid Mordecai, always having to ruin things. Oh sure, when the blue jay's trying—and failing, might he add—to pass off what is known as "flirting" with Margaret, Rigby is, without a doubt, out of the question. But when he's just trying to chillax and play video games with Eileen, Mordecai just _had_ to forget to speak up about the nearest gas station.

Eileen chuckled, "Well, I don't think we can continue it right now. My game is in my pocket, but judging from appearances, you don't seem to have brought yours."

Rigby stared up at the sky and yawned, "Yeah…I guess you're right." He paused briefly to kick the ground beneath his feet, and then resumed walking alongside Eileen. A stoic expression formed on his face. Eileen apparently took notice to this, and reached inside her short pockets to retrieve her handheld.

"Here," she offered, "so you won't get so bored."

Rigby's face lit up. He gave Eileen a look of disbelief, arching an eyebrow. "You sure?" he asked. He scratched the back of his head. "I mean, what if you get bored? You know I'm not gonna give it back to you until we reach the car again." He didn't understand why this girl was always so _nice_ to him. Well, he knew she had a crush on him, but he wondered why and how she managed to stick with it this long.

Eileen just smiled. "Go ahead," she insisted, dangling the gaming system within Rigby's reach. "I won't get bored. You know, it's nice just to stretch out and walk. I'll be just fine."

Without question, Rigby eagerly swiped the handheld from Eileen's grip. "Okay then," he shrugged, "but remember: there's no way you're getting this back until we return." He shook his head as he began to button mash, sounds emitting from the handheld to correlate with every pressed button. "I don't get you, Eileen. We just spent an entire day camping and you still prefer to just 'stretch out and walk'? Weird."

"Yeah," Eileen hummed, "but I still think it's nice. I mean, I bet if you spent an entire day playing video games, you'd still prefer to play video games over some other stuff. Isn't that right, Rigby?"

The raccoon was half-concentrating on the game, half-listening to Eileen. "Yeah, that's true. But you see…video games are _fun._ Just plain walking isn't." His words came out in fragments: speaking, then concentrating, then speaking again. More button pressing, and then a "game over." Rigby huffed, annoyed at his loss.

Eileen couldn't help but take another quick glance at Rigby. "To each his or her own, I suppose."

"Yeah, sure," Rigby muttered, restarting the level he had previously lost. "I guess. I mean, if you're just into that sort of stuff. But video games are still better. Now, if you don't mind…I have a level to beat."

The mole-girl focused her attention back to the road ahead. She slowly pushed her glasses further up her nose. Rigby was beginning to get absorbed further and further into the video game Eileen had let him borrow, and he knew Eileen took notice to that. He mentally smirked; at least he wouldn't be disturbed, leaving all of his concentration on the game.

"Sure Rigby," she said sweetly, as expected. "I'll just listen to sounds of nature instead."

"You do that."

The two continued to march on the seemingly endless highway. Rigby resumed his button mashing and his utter irritation over countless losses. They began to stack up. Every restart, every power-up, every button pressed…it didn't matter. He wasn't the best at video games, but _one_ minor, insignificant level shouldn't get him all worked up.

Eileen shook her head lightly, rolling her eyes and laughing softly. "Rigby, do you need help with a level?"

Rigby grimaced and crossed his arms tautly. "No," he huffed, "I don't _need_ your help."

Eileen giggled, "Whatever you say Rigby."

"Shut up," the raccoon whined, clearly declaring his defeat. He figured that the heat of the sun was sneaking under his skin, feeling that his act of defeat was too swift. His shoulders began to sag as they continued to trudge on the side of the road. Rigby grunted, "Ugh, how far have we been walking now?"

Eileen opened her mouth to speak, but abruptly shut it. She stopped in her tracks, gazing back at the highway. Rigby shot her a quizzical expression. "What?"

Eileen pointed out into the distance, "Look. I see a car coming by."

Rigby spun around, subconsciously shielding his eyes from the sun. He squinted, "Yeah, I think you're right."

"Here it comes," Eileen stated. Rigby rolled eyes at her statement of obvious fact. Suddenly, both of their expressions transformed into shock as a familiar blue jay accompanied by an equally familiar robin were screaming from the back of a run-of-the-mill car. It was decked out in tacky paint to cover the rust and the scratches and the dents. A shady character appeared to be the driver it, and his face reflected some sort of bizarre irrationality. Rigby guessed the guy was perhaps insane.

"_Dude_," Mordecai called out from a broken backseat window, "you've gotta rescue us. Some _psychopaths_ abducted us and are keeping us prisoners or something." Yup, definitely insane. Neither the raccoon nor the mole-girl had a chance to reply. They both only had a glimpse of the vehicle before it sped by, and each only had a brief chance to hear Mordecai's voice. Both Mordecai and Margaret were tied up, and the sounds of their screams echoed as the car cruised off into the distance.

Rigby could hear Eileen call out his name in slight hesitation.

But she was too late. The raccoon had darted off in a sweat-filled run, a futile attempt to catch up to his best friend. Rigby huffed and puffed as the gap between him and that four-wheeled wreck widened. "Mordecai," he yelled, but the car soon vanished into the horizon. Rigby could hear Eileen shout after him, and his legs gradually slowed down. He hung his head in defeat. "Mordecai…" he muttered softly, kicking the ground beneath his feet.

The sounds of Eileen's footsteps grew closer and closer with each heavy breath he took. "Margaret," the mole-girl uttered sadly, exhaling deeply. "We have to go rescue them." Her voice echoed with a soft determination.

"Well yeah," Rigby said, "but _how?_"

He glanced over at Eileen, who wore a face different than her usual happy-go-lucky self. It wasn't of anger or sadness, but something of willpower, Rigby supposed. He shot her a skeptical look, but Eileen didn't care. Her voice was firm. "Well," she began, "we should start by heading towards the gas station. We're obviously not going to get anywhere by just standing here."

The raccoon could only nod slowly as Eileen's pace accelerated and the gap between them increased. He huffed as heat and sweat caught onto the furs on his back. The highway gave the impression of everlasting misery, a sea of asphalt flanked by a thicket of trees. Rigby had to practically run to catch up to the mole-girl. He shot her half a glare, but Eileen didn't falter in the slightest.

"Wait up," he coughed, irritated. "Geez…can't a guy catch a breath?"

Eileen shook her head. "Sorry Rigby," she said, but it didn't sound like it. "We just really have to hurry if we're going to have any chance at finding those two."

She looked at Rigby with hopeful eyes, but his were merely staring monotonously at the grays and greens and blues before him. The raccoon sulked, plopping his tail-end on the searing pavement underneath him. Rigby let out a cry of discomfort, but he didn't budge. He just lied there as the sun's rays sucked the moisture from his skin.

"No chance," he muttered softly. "No chance."

He could hear Eileen's voice being drowned out by the sun. Rigby felt her hands grip onto his arms in an attempt to pull him up, but he remained stationary. What were they _thinking?_ Venturing out onto unfamiliar roads in the faintest hope of trying to rescue Mordecai and Margaret? Unthinkable.

And then suddenly, he was up on his feet, along with a fresh red mark clinging tightly to his cheek. Rigby frowned, rubbing his cheek in frustration. He shot Eileen a pure glare. "What was _that_ for?" he hissed through gritted teeth.

The response he received was a shrug. Eileen gazed down at her hand with wonder. "Wow," she breathed, amazed at what she had done mere moments ago. She sighed, "I'm sorry Rigby. I really didn't mean too. I mean, I only did it because you seemed…off somehow. And so that you wouldn't waste any more time. We really should get going."

Rigby felt his eyes fall onto Eileen's hand. He had to admit, he himself was dumbfounded at what the mole-girl—the very same who had been crushing on him for so long—had done. He had no idea she was capable of such a feat. And boy, did that slap _hurt._

"You didn't have to slap me," the raccoon mumbled out matter-of-factly. Rigby tended to his sore cheek.

"What other choice did I have?" Eileen asked as she twiddled her fingers. They both continued to march down the road, but not as hastily as before. Rigby caught Eileen glimpsing at him from time to time, but that was simply due to the fact that he was doing the same. Rigby tried to look away, but a new feeling that mixed anger, self-pity, and confusion surged within him.

"You didn't have to slap me," he repeated in a firm grumble.

"I dunno," Eileen began, "you seemed pretty delusional back there. I was afraid you either gave up or was suffering some sort of heat-related anxiety. It _is_ awfully hot out here."

Rigby crossed his arms, increasing the distance between himself and Eileen. "What makes you think that I had given up? And that I am delusional?" he asked irately, eyeing the mole-girl in overly-evident suspicion. "You don't know. Maybe I was tired from all that heat and just decided to take a little nap."

"You crashed onto the ground," Eileen stated, "and then you just lied there, staring out into nowhere repeating 'No chance' over and over again. That sounds like giving up _and_ delusion to me." Eileen's face was calm and steady, matching her voice and her diction. "And you know that every second counts. Why would you want to take a nap while our friends are probably being held hostage somewhere?"

"Friend," Rigby muttered lowly, but loud enough so that Eileen could hear him. He wiped the sweat of his palms down the side of his skin. He exhaled.

"What?" the mole-girl asked in bewilderment. Eileen halted in her tracks, as did Rigby. They eyed each other loosely. "What do you mean by that?"

"Margaret is _your_ friend," Rigby insisted dryly, "not mine." The words rolled off his tongue like acid, and he got the feeling that what he was saying was merely babble. It didn't matter. If it was babble, he was still going to argue it.

She shook her head, "Come on now, Rigby. That _can't_ be true. We were all having so much fun going camping together. Now you can't tell me that you don't consider Margaret your friend."

The raccoon felt Eileen's curious gaze fall onto his face. He shrugged. He honestly couldn't care less right now, as his sanity was being stolen by the sweat-absorber in the sky. He scratched the back of his neck. "The only reason you guys came in the first place was Mordecai," he said bluntly. "If it wasn't for his persistence, you wouldn't be here."

The mole-girl's mouth sulked into a sad frown. "While that may be true," she began, "you have to admit that we did have fun together." His frustrated expression didn't waver. "Come one Rigby," Eileen persisted, "you _did_ have fun. And whether you want to admit it or not, Margaret _is_ your friend."

"Whatever," the raccoon uttered through a staggered breath.

"Explain the camping trip," Eileen demanded, her patience clearly diminishing. She placed an indignant hand over her hip. Rigby's face remained unchanged, without the slightest twitch. "How can you say that she's not your friend when we were clearly having a good time?"

"Why does it matter anyways?" Rigby asked. He shifted his attention back to the road and proceeded to move forward. Eileen gravitated in his direction, but lingered behind. Rigby didn't even bother to glance this time. "Look, let's just drop it for now. It's like you said, Eileen. Every second counts."

Their last conversation felt like a distorted blip in the raccoon's mind. What had they just said? What had he just done? Did he _really_ give up back there, having to resort to Eileen's forceful slap to reawaken him back to sanity? No, he would never give up, especially not in front of Eileen.

The sound of Eileen's voice broke Rigby's train of thought. "Rigby," she uttered hesitantly.

This time he bothered to glance at the mole-girl, doing so over his shoulder. The raccoon couldn't help but roll his eyes. "What?"

"Am I your friend?" she asked slowly. Her expression seemed neither sad nor impatient. It was more as if Eileen was just…waiting. Waiting for _something,_ something more than just his response. Nah, it couldn't be that.

He contemplated her question and the possible reactions that could emerge as a result of his answer. Wait. Exactly _why_ was he contemplating? Eileen wasn't his friend; he didn't like her. Not at all. She was just some weird chick who had a crush on him. And _extremely_ annoying, might he add. But somehow, Rigby couldn't convince himself to blurt these thoughts out loud. He didn't say anything, and Eileen didn't bother to press him any further.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 2 of 5.<strong>


	3. The Station

**The Station**

Their walk together in silence seemed to last an eternity, but an eternity eventually came to a brief and permanent stop. The bypass sign was located, and they followed the trail until signs of civilization were confirmed. Few cars were parked near the dim and dusty gas station, but it was expected. The location was near the woods, after all. The city probably had a population of twelve.

The two exchanged eager glances and darted towards the station. It grew nearer and nearer within their eyesight until it was unfolded before their eyes.

"We finally made it," Eileen breathed. She grinned.

Rigby nodded, but scanned the area skeptically. "No kidding," he said, "but wow. It looks as if this place is rarely ever used."

The mole-girl shrugged, "Better than nothing. Come on; let's go ask the clerk for assistance." Her face beamed, hope written over every fiber of her being. Rigby didn't protest and followed her lead as they both headed through the gas station doors. A bell chimed to signify their arrival. He had to admit, it was relieving to finally be here.

Eileen approached the clerk and smiled. He was a blonde male with chin tuft for a beard. Her smile was confronted with a disinterested frown, causing her smile to evaporate. Rigby couldn't help but wrinkle a brow at the clerk.

"What do you two need?" the blonde muttered listlessly. "If you need to use the bathroom, you'll have to buy something first." He stuck a finger in his ear and wiped it on the counter.

"We didn't come here to use the bathroom," Eileen stated simply. She eyed the counter in disgust. "We need help."

"Yeah," Rigby piped in, "our car got stranded in the middle of the highway and we need to fill it up. We need a tow-truck or something."

The blonde ran a bony hand through his hair. "Well sure," he yawned, "but you know that it'll have to cost yah once we reach your car."

The raccoon wasn't pleased when Eileen gave him a face smeared with hopelessness. "Margaret had most of the money," she murmured, folding her arms across her chest.

"But you surely must have _some_ money," Rigby whispered, his voice on the verge of cracking. "You probably make more money than I do."

"I have some, but not enough to pay for a tow," the mole-girl replied in sympathy.

Crap. Rigby continued to stare at Eileen, as if she had some sort of solace to their monetary issue. Eileen only managed to shake her head. They both sighed, irritation evident on their faces. The clerk drummed his fingers on the counter in impatience, and Rigby sent him a sharp grimace. The blonde returned the favor.

"Look," he grumbled, "if you don't have any money, you might as well just leave."

Rigby was prepared to slip out the door, but Eileen's expression told him otherwise. He wanted to tell her to give up, but he knew Eileen wouldn't listen. "Surely there must be some sort of compromise we can make," she pleaded.

The clerk slammed his fist against the counter. Eileen winced back, and Rigby saw her hand instinctively reach for his. He moved his hand away so that she was merely grasping the air. He felt a tiny pang of guilt, particularly due to the fact the clerk's facial features were not…pleasant.

"I am _sorry_ miss," the blonde said slowly, attempting to regain his composure. His voice mellowed out. "But I cannot offer any sort of compromise. Sorry."

Eileen's mouth didn't open and instead, she diverted her attention towards Rigby and the exit. The raccoon gave her a supportive smile, however, it was slight. He muttered some jargon loosely under his breath—something nasty about the clerk—and opened the door. Eileen followed him outside, both hovering towards a nearby bench. The two plopped down onto it, with the mole-girl fixated in thought.

"I wish we bought some water before we got into that whole argument thing," Rigby confessed sulkily. "My tongue's burning."

"There's a couple of water fountains near the bathrooms," Eileen pointed out, placing a finger in the direction of the portables and the water fountains that were next to it. Rigby followed her finger, but flinched at the filthiness of the portable bathrooms. The fountains were most likely in the same condition. Eileen must have suspected this as well, because her lips did not move after her eyes inspected them with more attention to detail.

"Yeah," the raccoon mumbled, "I don't think I'll be drinking from those anytime soon. I'd rather drink out of a toilet." Eileen giggled lightly at the comment, and Rigby let loose a small grin. His grin was brief. "Man, what are we going to do now?" he asked, puckering a brow at the station before him.

Eileen sunk back in her seat, and unknowingly, Rigby mimicked her movement. Her features retained their usual pleasant nature when she spoke, "I don't know. We don't have much money and Margaret and Mordecai are counting on us." She rocked her legs back in forth, standing up. "I'll go buy you that water, Rigby. Maybe as I'm over there I can think of a way to get us out of this mess."

"You can't possibly go back in there," the raccoon protested, shaking his head in disbelief. "What if that guy starts pestering you again?"

The mole-girl just smiled at him. It was instances like these that made Rigby ponder her strange methods. Out of all the recent crap they've went through (and are currently undergoing), she smiles at going back into that horrid gas station. Really? _Really?_ "Don't worry about," she replied, shoving her hands into her pockets. "I'm not going to ask that guy for anything except change when I hand him a twenty."

Rigby's expression didn't sway from its skepticism. "You sure?"

Eileen nodded, "Yep. Like I said, don't worry about it." She pushed her glasses up her nose, strolling back towards the gas station as if it was a slice of free cake.

Rigby mentally smiled with relief, knowing that Eileen had enough money to quench his dehydration. There was barely any saliva left on the surface of his tongue. He hoped that girl would hurry up. The raccoon drummed his fingers repeatedly on the bench, waiting for her return. Yeah, she was okay.

Not a single breeze brushed past him. Rigby began to grow more and more impatient, knowing that ice-cold water was mocking him in the distance. He grumbled mindless jargon until something caught the corner of his eye. He stopped drumming his fingers; his posture stiffened.

It was a car. Obviously, where there's a gas station, there were always going to be cars. But this car. This _car._ It was decked out in tacky paint to cover the rust and the scratches and the dents…

It was the same car that kidnapped Mordecai and Margaret.

Rigby's attention darted towards the gas station. His heart quickened in its beat. Eileen was out buying him water. Eileen was out _in the open_ as the gas station doors swung forward and that familiar bell chimed. Eileen was out in_ the front of the car_ as it rolled to a jagged stop.

The mole-girl must have noticed this, because she sprinted towards Rigby in a flurry. Her face was smeared in half-adrenaline, half-fear. To Rigby's astonishment, she actually managed to keep her grip on the water bottle. Hmm. Maybe she was _sort-of _cool after all.

"Here's your water," she breathed. Eileen's eyes were constantly on guard, constantly shifting back to the car occupied with thugs. Rigby grabbed the bottle smoothly from her grasp.

"Thanks," he said. A cool wave splashed his mouth for a fleeting moment, and then he realized they still were in imminent danger. Rigby chugged down the crisp, cold liquid until there wasn't the faintest drop left in the bottle. He peered over Eileen's shoulder as five thugs slammed their doors.

Eileen tugged at Rigby's sleeve. "Are they looking over here?" she asked softly.

Rigby narrowed his eyes. "Um…I can't tell." He took a tiny step closer. Three of those who exited the vehicle entered the gas station, but Rigby wasn't going to lower his suspicions just yet. The remaining two swaggered towards him and Eileen in composed, sadistic paces. "They're not looking," the raccoon felt himself squeak, "they're _coming._" He felt his hand automatically reach for Eileen's wrist. A prompt, surging energy released as the two broke out into a hasty run. The raccoon heard a sharp crack as they distanced themselves from the gas station.

Rigby never thought he would actually wish to be walking down on that forsaken highway.

Wishes meant nothing whereas cardio-respiratory endurance meant everything. Unfortunately, Rigby could only manage to run for a good five minutes before wishing that Eileen had bought him more than one water bottle. Damn hindsight, always scoffing and spitting at his face. He felt himself descend onto the concrete.

"I need…some…time to catch…my breath," Rigby huffed. He could taste his parched lips; that icy water he slurped down mere minutes ago had already left his system.

Eileen propped him back onto his feet. She shook her head, "There's no time." She snagged a quick glimpse over her shoulder. Eileen stopped, listening. "They seem to be out of range, so we should be okay for a couple of minutes. They don't seem to be the fastest of runners, if you know what I mean." She reached inside her hoodie's front pocket. "Here."

He could kiss her right now. No, not really, but the sight of that second bottled beauty made Eileen appear that much cooler. No pun intended. He didn't speak; Rigby let his actions do the talking. Jeez, was he _appreciative_ of the ice-cold water that soothed his tastes. When he finished, he handed the bottle back to Eileen.

She gave Rigby an awkward stare, taking the empty bottle hesitantly. "Maybe I can recycle this later," she uttered. Her face hardened, and she gazed at the searing blue sky. "We better get moving. I suggest we pace ourselves towards in order to refrain from losing too much energy."

So began the long and dreary routine. It was pace break, pace break, pace break, over and over again until Rigby was almost _certain_ that the hooligans who were following them had given up the chase. It had been what, an hour already? The two had managed to reach the outer edges in the forest, planning to go a bit deeper so that the thugs would get lost amidst the foliage. Rigby had stopped to take another deep breather, leaning against a tree for shade.

Eileen wiped the sweat off her forehead with a quick gesture of her hand. She too was worn-down and decided to take a seat next to Rigby. The raccoon sighed as he scratched the side of his neck, convinced that it was bitten by some sort of bug. Eileen ran her fingers through her hair, sweat drops still evident on her face.

"You got another water bottle?" the raccoon asked, his voice hopeful. Eileen told him otherwise with a simple twist of her head. Rigby muttered, "Should've known." At least he wasn't as thirsty as he was twenty minutes ago. His gaze hit the side of Eileen's face. She turned towards him. "You said those guys weren't the fastest runners, right?"

"That's right."

"Then how do you think they managed to capture Mordecai and Margaret?"

"Using strength, most likely."

Rigby rested his head on the thick bark of the tree. The texture wasn't exactly heavenly, but it would have to do. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Eileen sighed, "I didn't see them."

Rigby tilted his head in Eileen's direction. "Huh?"

"Margaret and Mordecai," Eileen continued, "I didn't see them." She folded her hands into her lap. "When I stepped outside the building, I noticed that they weren't in the backseat like they were when we first saw them. Instead, those…_thugs_ were sitting there."

Rigby lifted a brow in curiosity, "Really?" The mole-girl gave him a soft nod. The fact they weren't in the back of that sorry excuse of a car initially made Rigby swim in relief. The thought of abandoning his best friend as he and Eileen made a great escape would have attacked the little conscience he had. But then, if they weren't in the car, _where_ could they be? Did the thugs throw the two out onto the curb and leave them to the wilderness? Or was their fate even worse?

The rationality in Eileen's voice was comforting. "I also noticed that there were two more of those guys than in our initial run-in with them on the road." She frowned, concentrated in thought. "They must live somewhere close to the gas station, then. They probably dropped Margaret and Mordecai off somewhere, picked up two more of their gang and then went to refill their car with gas."

"So…" Rigby began, "what you're saying is that these thugs live nearby?" Eileen nodded. "And what you're saying is that we have to go back. To the city. Because that's where Mordecai and Margaret are being held." His voice was hesitant. Eileen nodded again.

Rigby snatched the empty water bottle from Eileen's hands and chucked it as far as he could. Which wasn't very far. "Man…" he muttered. Rigby sulked back against the bark of the tree, his expression unmistakably exhausted. He watched as Eileen stood up to retrieve the water bottle and then went back to sit down. Her actions were followed by an abrupt crunch: the stepping of feet over fallen branches.

Both Rigby and Eileen bolted straight up, attempting to pinpoint the source of the sound. He saw Eileen clamp the water bottle in a firm grip, readying herself for attack. He too prepared himself, holding his fists up in defense. He felt his muscles tense up at the sound of another crack. He waited. He listened.

"Ey Jiggs," the raccoon heard a voice call out lightly, "I think I found 'em." Then came a scoff, proceeded by more crunching of leaf litter.

"Yeah right," the one presumably known as Jiggs sneered, "quit lying Deg. I don't see them anywhere." Rigby watched Eileen nimbly slip out further away from their voices, pressing against trees and shrubs for concealment. He watched her motion to do the same, and he followed the mole-girl's lead. The raccoon made a mental note to move with caution; a single snap could give away their location.

"Nah, dude I swear," the one called Deg insisted. "Didn't you hear voices? I heard something. You must be losing your hearing."

"Shut _up_ about my hearing," Jiggs retorted, his tone piercing the forest air. "Man, I bet even _if_ they were here, you would've already given away our spot. You've got one loud mouth over here."

"Me?" Deg hissed lowly. "You're the one yelling at every twig, rock, and caterpillar you see here."

There was a momentary shift into silence. Rigby sucked in his chest, not wanting to risk exhaling and creating even the slightest of sounds. He looked to Eileen, who remained mostly stoic for the current ordeal. Occasionally the mole-girl would close her eyes uneasily, but for the most part, her face remained void of emotion.

Jiggs and Deg continued to search the area. Rigby wished they would just leave, because every step they took felt like a step closer to his own demise. Their investigation lasted another minute, but to Rigby, that single minute extended to an entire year.

"Let's just bail," Jiggs finally spat out in defeat. "Who cares about those two anyhow? We'll have plenty of fun tonight with the others we've already got on our hands."

Deg's response was reluctant, "I don't know. Won't the boss be mad? We're throwing away fresh meat, y'know?" The raccoon could almost _feel_ the apprehension in Deg's voice.

Jiggs, on the other hand, seemed unsympathetic. "Whatever," he said, "I honestly don't care what Pyro thinks. If he's such a whiner about us letting loose a couple of nobodies, then he can tell it to my face when we get back."

Their conversation ended with the shuffling of feet. The snaps and cracks of the forest soon became distant, leaving Eileen and Rigby to safety of solitude. Rigby could at last release the breath he held in for so long. Eileen straightened out her hair a bit before softly kicking the dirt beneath her feet.

"We better wait a few minutes before heading back to the city," she declared.

"Yeah." Rigby scanned the forest. His muscles were wrenched in intricate knots and he spoke in hushed tones. He let his eyes come in contact with Eileen's. Their stare was brief, yet reassuring. Almost like a mother's touch, but visually. Almost. Rigby mustered up the courage to talk a bit louder. "What do you think they meant by 'plenty of fun' and 'fresh meat'? Do you think they're planning to use them for sport or something?"

The mole-girl sighed, her lips curved downward. She folded her arms across her chest in a timid embrace. "Let's hope not."

* * *

><p><strong>Part 3 of 5.<strong>


	4. The Diner

**The Diner**

"Do you want your game back?"

It was simple question, but in odd context. Rigby and Eileen had waited for a good ten minutes to ensure they would not have another accidental run-in with the hooligans. They trudged through the forest, pushing back branches and swatting away mosquitoes.

Eileen shrugged, "I don't mind if you still want to play it." The way she spoke was off, sort-of tiring, and Rigby knew that she was exhausted from the events in the past two days. He couldn't blame her. In fact, he was wondering how he himself managed to last this long without throwing such a fit.

If he was with Mordecai, Rigby knew for sure there would be tons of arguing strewn into this heap of disaster. But Eileen was not Mordecai. She was Eileen. It was possibly her or the absence of his one and only bro that kept Rigby from losing the patience he incredibly, was _still_ keeping. He ducked under a thick branch.

"Yeah, well," the raccoon began, "I sort of dropped it when we ran from the station." He didn't know what else to say. Rigby let his facial expressions do the rest of the talking, but they didn't have anything to say either.

"Oh." A flutter of awkwardness moseyed its way in-between the space of the two. In response, Eileen did what she did best: smiled. "It's okay," she replied sweetly, "I can always buy another one later."

Rigby sometimes wished he knew what the H that psychopathic girl was thinking. He knew darn well that Eileen made more money than he did, but it wasn't enough to expend dough on a brand-new handheld every time the old one broke. Hmm. Eileen either stole or was merely a pushover. It was, in all likelihood, the latter. But then again, it _was_ a life or death situation. Why would she care about a video game?

Rigby didn't know. He wanted to just stop thinking and head off to sleep.

"Whatever you say," he yawned. Rigby grinned once the thicket of green was replaced by the apathetic gray of asphalt. He felt that today had been a real workout for him. Maybe there was a bus-stop nearby the gas station, but Rigby didn't want to go back there all too soon. "Jeez, we're finally back in…what is this city called?"

Eileen narrowed her eyes towards a distant sign. "Apparently, it's called Flickerton," she stated simply.

The raccoon scanned the area. He squinted, trying to detect where in the world the sign was. He couldn't. "I don't see it," he frowned.

"Over there." The mole-girl pointed to a dull, tinted blue sign hazily in the distance.

"Oh."

Both of them paced themselves in the outskirts of the city. No longer was the sun dominating over the sky, but now it was leaning to late-day. Eileen somehow managed to read Rigby's mind and had suggested that they steer clear of the gas station. That probably was mere common sense rather than mind-reading, but still. Of course the raccoon didn't protest, and eventually the two made it further into the density of urban life.

Flickerton was no looker. There wasn't a skyscraper in sight. Liquor stores and pawn shops were sprinkled here and there; seedy diners and humble cafés juxtaposed each other, an abnormal pair. Rigby felt a squeamish pang in his gut with shady characters lurking deep within alleys and street corners. He and Eileen maintained their footsteps on the sidewalk, not stopping to chat or ask questions. As if anyone would even bother. The people here seemed to mind their own business, and it was fine by Rigby.

He glanced at Eileen intriguingly as a short growl emitted from her stomach. "You hungry?" he asked. She nodded. His own appetite was ferocious as well. They've been out for hours and the raccoon only managed to pour water into his digestive track.

Speaking of which, he had another urge to use the bathroom. As much as he hated to admit it, they would have to enter one of these buildings, for food and for his bladder relief.

"Yeah me too." At least Rigby managed to swallow _something._ Eileen hadn't eaten or drank for hours. He was amazed that this girl was still managing to hold her own. Rigby glanced at her. "Still have some money left over?"

"I've got about thirty left," was her simple reply. They both stopped to cleanly scope out the district for good eats. Eileen peered over Rigby's shoulder. She pointed, "Over there. The Squeaky Diner. It looks decent from what I can see."

A rush of cool air swept through Rigby as the two of them stepped inside the restaurant. He slammed the door behind him shut as they strolled into a livelier atmosphere. Everything appeared so retro. Black and white checkered tiles were polished beneath their feet. A jukebox was blasting out some good ol' tune. A waitress was taking orders from behind a counter; high stools and faux-leather booths made the perfect seats. Photographs and signs were plastered all over the walls.

It was a comforting sight, especially after being hunted down in the woods twice in recent times.

Another waitress held up a circular tray, dishing out orders. She was a brunette, most likely in her mid-thirties. She shot Rigby and Eileen a polite nod. "You two can take a seat anywhere you'd like. I'll get back to you shortly," she called out, her voice scratchy. Rigby took charge and sat down at a corner booth, knowing Eileen wouldn't protest. The waitress was good to her word and appeared a few minutes after the two situated themselves. "My name's Sonny Parkins," she coughed. She took the menus that were tucked underneath her arm and sighed. "I'll be over in a few more minutes to take your orders."

"Thanks," Eileen said kindly. Sonny gave another nod of her head before speeding off.

When Sonny left, Eileen faced Rigby. "We better order cheap and fast," she uttered. "Remember what Jiggs said? They were going to have fun _tonight._" Her expression softened to a great degree. She sighed, "I fear if we don't find them by tonight…"

"You don't need to say anything," the raccoon interrupted, a stinging solemnity in his words. He skimmed through the menu. "Just order me a burger and a cup of Joe," he told the mole-girl. "I'm gonna take a leak."

Eileen gave him an "okay" as he moved through the crowded diner. Other waiters and waitresses brushed by him until he finally reached the bathroom stalls.

The place was incredible. Everything—the walls, the floors, the urinals—had a bright, sanitary finish. The Squeaky Diner definitely lived up to its name. Rigby figured the Coffee Shop back home could use some of this diner's streamlined physique and retro appeal. And the bathroom had its own jukebox. Now, how cool was _that?_

After using the bathroom, Rigby figured he should at least run his hands over some water before eating. He turned on the faucet and let a cold cascade of water run through. Forget soap. This raccoon was hungry and didn't care for extra hygienic details.

"That new haul is going to make an awesome show tonight."

Out of the corner of his eye, a redhead and a human with a Mohawk were counting their money. Green bills were exposed on their side of the counter. Both men had a solid build.

Rigby's senses skyrocketed. He remained static, letting his hands receive an ongoing downpour of water.

"I can't wait to see that blue jay. Red and blue will make an awesome combination," the Mohawk man confessed. The two humans snickered. The bills continued to stack up. "I wonder if Jiggs and the rest snagged any more easy prey."

The redhead laughed, and the raccoon figured he should get some soap to make it look as if he really was washing his hands. He lathered his hands slowly. The redhead spoke in reply, "Nah. Jiggs told me that he and Deg gave up searching for some others…I forget who exactly. Wait till Pyro hears about this back at the warehouse."

Ding ding ding, we have a winner. Rigby felt himself tremble slightly, but he managed to finish rinsing his hands. He had the courage to turn off the faucet. Then, he strolled out as inconspicuously as he could. Rigby deftly dodged the diner's denizens, reaching the booth. He slipped back into his seat across from Eileen, pleased to find that their food arrived in such a short amount of time.

He browsed Eileen's food selection: a small soft drink and a baked potato. "Sonny's shift is over, so now we have to call for Dean if we need anything," Eileen told him. Rigby just nodded as he took one huge bite of his burger and all of its greasy goodness. Eileen dug into her food just as messily as he did. She took a long slurp of her soda. She lazily wiped her mouth with a napkin in attempt to have manners, but it failed. Rigby smirked as the mole-girl let out a noticeable burp.

"Nice one," he chuckled. The mole-girl flashed him a smile. Hunger. It did things to even polite little misses like Eileen.

Oh yeah, and there also was that fact that each of their best friends were going be taking part in some twisted game trying to pass off as entertainment. His eyes narrowed as the redhead and the Mohawk snickered their way out of the diner. Which reminded him…

"Hey Eileen," Rigby murmured.

The mole-girl halted her potato feasting and glanced up at Rigby. "Yeah?" she asked, covering her mouth. Her speech was clearly muffled by food.

The raccoon was a fast eater and had already finished his meal. He let his elbows rest on the table. "I think I know where we can find Mordecai and Margaret." Eileen laid her fork on her plate, the mole-girl's attention fully focused on Rigby. She didn't say anything, urging the raccoon to continue. His voice lowered, forcing Eileen to lean in order to listen. "I heard two other thugs talking while I was in the bathroom. They said something about a warehouse."

They were out of the diner like lightning that could strike the sky. It wasn't dine-and-dash; it was more like Rigby taking the remaining money out of Eileen's pockets and slapping it on the counter. He had shoved the change back into Eileen's pockets in a frantic dash to save his best friend.

Mordecai.

What if he never saw him again?

The raccoon digested this eerie possibility in a fearful shudder. The blue jay had stuck with him through thick and thin. They treated each other like crap, but it didn't matter. They were _bros._ And the chance that he could lose the single person he counted on for more than anything frightened him.

Rigby discarded the thought as the two of them sprinted towards the other side of town. Dean, the waiter who had taken over Sonny's shift, had tipped them off of the warehouse's whereabouts and in return, had received a generous tip.

Eileen seemed to be lost in thought as they ran. He knew she had Margaret on her mind more than anything. Rigby decided that although they were chicks, their friendship had to be just a smidge similar to his and Mordecai's. Just a smidge. He couldn't help but feel a _little_ sorry for her. The raccoon wondered if Margaret would ditch their chick plans to spend time with whatever boyfriend the robin would have at the moment.

She probably did.

"We're almost there," Eileen shouted.

Neither of them slowed down. Not with dusk imminent in only an hour or two. They passed more cafés. More liquor stores. More diners, but not with the same flair as The Squeaky Diner. Rigby watched as those who were about to light a cigarette glanced over suspiciously as he and Eileen darted across the city. He almost tripped over his own feet due to distraction, but caught himself in the nick of time.

His footsteps mellowed as they reached a chunky cube of a building. Its looks paralleled that of the car those hooligans drove earlier. In fact, the car was parked right next to the warehouse, in all its shabby glory. Rounds of hysteric, chaotic laughter could be barely heard from inside, being swallowed up by the steel walls. Rigby and Eileen exchanged grave glances with a trace of worry. They nodded silently to each other.

"Ladies first," the raccoon uttered listlessly.

"Um, okay."

Eileen swerved from the main entrance to right side of the building. Rigby kept close to her, checking behind him every so often in case they were being tracked. He subconsciously covered his nose—Eileen did the same—as they evaded rotting trash scattered here and there on the ground. Cockroaches scurried across the dirt in unison. Eileen directed her index finger at a flight of stairs. The stairs appeared untrustworthy, but they were the only entrance inside the two found, excluding the main one.

They crept up slowly. A window was accessible as their movements ascended further up the flight. Rigby took a swift peek; Mordecai, Margaret, and some other unknown faces were chained to a post that was smack dab in the center of the warehouse. Rigby's heart sank as the redhead and the Mohawk were smirking, all members of their gang holding torches and using them to threaten his bro.

"Eileen, hurry," he whispered anxiously. Eileen's hand was clamped over the doorknob, but she didn't move it. Rigby's expression hardened into a scowl. "What are you waiting for?"

"We can't just bust in…can we?" the mole-girl asked in a reluctant tone.

The raccoon was not patient and not pleased. He trotted up lightly to the top of the staircase, swatting Eileen's hand away from the door. "What do you mean by that?"

"We need a plan," she stated matter-of-factly, sending Rigby a look of rigid sincerity. Eileen drew a shaky breath. "We can't just bust in. We can't. If our attempt at saving them is going to succeed, then we need a rational and thorough understanding of what we're about to do. Otherwise…" There was a pause. No words, just eye contact. "Otherwise we just might as be as well-off as they are right now."

How come she had to be so _right?_ What was Rigby planning to do once they charged in? _Punch? _Mordecai disregarded the raccoon's punches like a spring breeze. If those thugs were powerful enough to kidnap Mordecai, what use was he in combat? His heart sank even further into his chest. "No chance," he muttered softly, "no chance."

But before Eileen had the opportunity to strike his face _again_, Rigby snapped back to his own senses. He caught her hand with his, and he gave her an affirmative nod. "Then what do you suggest we do?" he inquired. "_Beg_ the band of thugs to give our friends back?"

Eileen pondered this, fixating her gaze to the steel door dangling in front of her. Rigby waited, using every ounce of his willpower to remain put and not open the door, a door that was mere inches away from his own grasp. He began to sweat with a new nervousness as minutes passed, knowing that every second counted and that the fate of his best friend was in their hands.

Eileen finally spoke, shattering the silence between them. "I have an idea."

Rigby's face became a beacon. "Great," he breathed, "what is it?"

* * *

><p><strong>Part 4 of 5.<strong>


	5. The Warehouse

**The Warehouse**

Here was the plan:

Eileen had also noticed the torches that the gang members were holding. Rigby hadn't guessed it, but the mole-girl had: Pyro, the presumable leader of these hooligans, was indeed an arsonist. The words that the members used to describe tonight as "entertainment" arranged themselves to spell one single action. Rigby didn't want to believe the action that Eileen suggested, but putting the pieces together made everything clearer in his head.

They were going to light their friends on fire.

Eileen, being the brilliant mastermind that she was at the moment, was going to trigger the sprinkler system. The arsonists would have programmed the sprinkler system to only initiate in the case of a massive, _massive_ warehouse fire. As in only _extreme_ situations. However, since all of the members were downstairs for the "fireworks display," Eileen would have no trouble activating the sprinkler system if the valves were most likely outside the warehouse. They both decided to check.

The two descended down the staircase as lightly as possible. Again, they covered their noses in hopes of blocking out the repulsive scent of trash and cockroaches. Eileen and Rigby searched the entire area, but the valves were nowhere to be found. As the two headed back to the staircase, Rigby stumbled upon something, tripping and rapidly getting back on his feet.

"Jeez," he muttered, "what was that?"

Eileen peered over, staring at the object intriguingly. "It looks like a bolt cutter." Rigby just shot her a look of pure bewilderment. The mole-girl grinned. "It means we can use this to cut the chains." She sighed. "It's too bad we didn't find the valves out here. This means that they're inside the warehouse…underground most likely."

This was to be a daunting task for both. He would be the one providing the distraction whereas Eileen had to hope that she found the basement before the arsonists found her.

As Eileen had mentioned before: _"They don't seem to be the fastest of runners, if you know what I mean."_

Once again, cardio-respiratory endurance meant everything. Rigby and Eileen would have to rely on not just their speed, but on their hearts and lungs. And don't forget their skills at evasion. That would be important as well.

"Once you barge in," Eileen began, "I'll wait until you've distracted so many people that it's safe for me to go. Once the sprinklers go off, use that time to cut everyone loose."

Rigby whined, "Why can't you be the distraction and _I'll_ go activate the valves?"

The mole-girl just sighed, crossing her arms. "Because I fear you might mess something up," she stated bluntly.

Wow. Even Eileen knew how much of a screw-up the raccoon could be. Rigby opened his mouth in protest, but promptly proceeded to shut it.

This was no time for petty arguing. His bro's life was at stake.

His hand grasped the door, his palms quivering in fear. Eileen placed a hand at his shoulder, and for a moment, Rigby thought the mole-girl was going to plant a tiny kiss on his cheek. She didn't. Instead, Eileen wished him good luck. Rigby inhaled an apprehensive breath. He exhaled slowly, clutching the bolt cutter that would later be used to save his bro's life.

One.

Two.

Three.

His entrance was followed by shouts and lingering gazes. He heard Eileen shut the door behind him and gulped. Let the fun begin. Rigby did not want to get cornered at the upper story, so he hastily descended the staircase. Redhead and Mohawk were quickly in pursuit of his trail, torches firmly in their grasp. The raccoon heard furious yells come from two people whom he identified as Jiggs and Deg. Rigby slid underneath the legs of Jiggs, and he found Deg coming at him from a corner.

Rigby's heart raced like the unicorns in their drag race. His feet treaded forcefully on the stained metallic floors. Somehow, he wasn't tired. A surging adrenaline rushed through him, giving him the strength to outrun these thugs at a reasonable distance. Deg stumbled to the ground, his torch catching fire on Jiggs. Rigby sneered. However, the others tried to swarm him, so it made avoiding them exceedingly different as they attacked from all angles.

There were _tons_ of them. Not only were Jiggs and Redhead equipped with flaring torches, a couple of others had chains for long-distance access. Jiggs was back in the game, most likely extinguished by another member. He too was now provided a chain, and it was going to take a whole lot more than some sprinklers to stop these hooligans; Rigby would have to fight back. But he wasn't going to use his fists. He was going to do it the Eileen way.

He was going to outsmart the others, beating them at their own twisted game.

The raccoon made each attacker an ally rather than an adversary. When he was cornered by two, he simply dodged and allowed one person to unintentionally clobber the other. He snickered and didn't attempt to hide it as Redhead cursed Jiggs out and Deg spat a nasty remark at Mohawk.

"_Go_ Rigby," he heard Mordecai call out.

"We're counting on you," Margaret yelled in desperation.

The sound of his best friend's voice made Rigby all the more determined to keep him alive. And although he hadn't thought much of the red robin, it was kind of nice to see her doing well. Mordecai had genuine feelings for her, and Rigby didn't want to see his bro crushed and bitterly depressed.

Eileen's words crept their way into his mind: _"Now you can't tell me that you don't consider Margaret your friend."_

To be frank, at first, he didn't. Margaret was honestly just some girl that Mordecai wouldn't stop obsessing over. She was just some girl to intrude on their bro time together, to make things worse for each other. He felt as if the red robin was the source for nearly half of their fights together, to trigger friction and hatred between the two. But recently, Rigby decided she wasn't all that bad. He still didn't think much of her, but after camping with her, Margaret could actually be a _little_ bit fun to hang around with.

To Rigby's relief, water surged out of the sprinklers dangling above, as if to greet him hello.

"Thank you Eileen," he sighed happily under his breath.

That girl was a miracle worker.

He felt himself come to a stop; everyone did the same. Torches, cigarette lighters, flaming trash cans…they all were doused. Rigby wanted to do a little victory dance and perhaps tell it to their faces, but he knew that the ordeal was not over yet.

"Hey, guys," a female voice shouted maliciously, "look over _here._" The female's voice was recognizable. The owner? Sonny Parkins. Rigby's eyes widened in horror. He scurried over to Parkins in an effort to shut that B up. But before he could reach her, Sonny spoke again. "There's someone down at the basement," she cooed, "and bet that's the girl who set off the sprinklers."

All they had to do was capture Eileen and switch back the valves. Rigby's first instinct was to save her, but he couldn't possibly do it alone.

He still had his tool: the bolt cutter. Since Rigby had nearly sprinted halfway across the warehouse to prevent Sonny's outburst, he was practically next to Mordecai and the others. Jiggs and Deg began to run to Sonny's location, but they were slow. This gave Rigby some time to cut the chains. He positioned his tool so that one chain at a time would be between each blade. He could feel the blood pumping through every fiber in his being. The adrenaline…it was still there.

Snap. One chain down, three to go. Rigby didn't bother to glimpse at Sonny and the rest. If he was going to help Eileen, he had to save Mordecai and Margaret.

Snap. Another chain gone. Redhead and Mohawk were coming towards him slowly. Despite their lack of speed, it didn't mean Rigby had time to slack off.

"Dude, you better hurry," Mordecai stuttered.

"We have to help Eileen," Margaret uttered, her tone frantic.

Rigby couldn't wait any longer. Snap. Snap.

And they were free.

"Thank you so much for saving us," an anonymous male human said sincerely. He was pale, with black hair and a scrawny build. "My name is Dewey. I'll head for the fire extinguisher to try and save your friend." Rigby simply nodded as Dewey sped off.

The other two anonymities were Jasmine and Lichen. Jasmine had dark skin and a petrified expression smeared all over her face. Lichen, a stocky man, was another redhead. They too expressed their gratitude by darting towards the remaining fire extinguishers in hopes of saving Eileen. Rigby watched as they mimicked his style, using speed and agility to their advantage. Redhead and Mohawk stopped their pursuit of Rigby and split up: Redhead chased Jasmine, and Mohawk went for Lichen.

"Dude, I can't thank you enough," Mordecai smiled, relief written all over his face.

Margaret, however, was not at all calm. "I'm going with Dewey, Jasmine, and Lichen. I need to save Eileen."

Rigby had to admire her courage, just a teensy bit. "Like H you are," the raccoon protested, stopping the robin just as she prepared to sprint. He placed a drenched hand over her soaked wing. Margaret stared at him, dazed and expressing concern for her endangered friend. "I'll do it," he declared.

"Rigby," Mordecai said, "I'm coming with you." The raccoon merely shook his head.

"No," Rigby objected, but it pained him to do so. The next words pained himself even more. "You have to…you have to watch over Margaret. There's no point in arguing."

Before the blue jay could protest, the raccoon had taken off.

His head. His lungs. His legs. Each of the three was throbbing, but Rigby was making sure his body wouldn't give up on him. It had before, but it wouldn't now. No, not like this. Jasmine and Lichen were in front of him with Dewey far ahead. Dewey had smacked Jiggs onto the ground, and Jasmine then proceeded to spray ice-cold foam all over the arsonist's body. Jiggs cried out in his obviously unbearable pain.

Deg was next in line to be a floor mate, and Lichen took control making sure that S.O.B. _remained_ a floor mate. Dewey had proceeded down to the basement where the valves were, and Rigby had finally caught up to the man. In the midst of everything, Rigby had forgotten how drenched everyone was. He himself was soaked in water, and the sprinklers had continued to pitter patter down onto the floor.

Until they stopped.

When he reached the basement, what Rigby found wasn't much of a revelation. Eileen was backed up against the wall by an unnamed man, while Sonny was on guard at the valve. The femme fatale grinned dangerously at Rigby. "You're gonna have a huge one on your hands," she snickered in wicked malevolence.

The raccoon frowned, "Don't say it like that."

Before he could step up to take this mystery man down, Dewey charged wildly forward, attempting to hit the unnamed man with the fire extinguisher. Rigby didn't see how Dewey _couldn't_ win. The unnamed man was extremely thin. But before Dewey could even reach him, a fireball emitted from the mystery man onto Dewey. What was left of the tragic hero was a disintegrated pile of ashes. Rigby gasped in utter alarm.

"Pyro tends to do that to people," Sonny said in a sickeningly sweet tone. "After all, he likes to save the heroes for his ultimate display of fireworks."

Pyro. So they met at last. His named dictated his looks. Pyro had long, flaming red hair, redder than Redhead's. Not to mention he could shoot flames from out of nowhere. The fire extinguisher that Dewey once held rolled to Rigby's feet, and the raccoon bent over to pick it up. He glanced over at Eileen, whose face was absolutely stupefied at what was just enfolded right in front of her. Rigby held up the fire extinguisher, ready to charge.

"You think you can stop me?" Pyro cackled. He whipped his hair back and forth. "You can't stop _nothing._"

"Maybe he can't alone," a familiar blue jay called out.

"But together," a familiar red robin declared, "_we_ can."

"Mordecai?" Rigby asked, stumped. He spun around to face them. Both Mordecai and Margaret wore a serious expression. "Margaret?" Mordecai flanked his left; Margaret flanked his right. Both had a fire extinguisher, probably borrowed from Jasmine and Lichen. Rigby sighed, thankful for the backup. "Guys," he began, "this guy can shoot fire from his _brain._ We better watch out."

"Hmm," Margaret contemplated in a hushed tone, "we'll charge, but use the fire extinguishers to block his attacks." She glimpsed over at Rigby. "Sound like a plan?"

Rigby grinned, "Yeah. Sounds like a plan." Rigby inhaled an apprehensive breath. He exhaled slowly, clutching the fire extinguisher that would later be used to save his friend's life.

"One," said Margaret.

"Two," continued Mordecai.

"Three."

They rushed at the same time, squirting the icy foam and aiming straight for Pyro's head. He sent a barrage of fireballs, but those were all easily doused. He mentally thanked Mordecai and Margaret for aiding him in the rescue.

Their triumph was followed by a quaking Pyro, who was freezing beneath the ice-cold foam. He was spread out on the ground. Sonny had screamed once she had seen her leader fall. She had attempted to escape, but Margaret had sprayed her down before that B could flee. Mordecai and Rigby had done a victory dance, which was promptly followed by the loudest "OHHHHHHHH" that they have yet to top.

Eileen, upon rescuing, had impulsively ran towards the nearest individual, that being Rigby, and gave him a brief, heartfelt hug. "Thank you Rigby," she smiled, blushing faintly.

Rigby scratched the back of his head. He didn't like hugs, but after this, he had decided to let the meager gesture slide (just this once). The raccoon grinned cockily. "No problem Eileen."

"Uhhh," the blue jay began, "what are we going to do with all these arsonists?" Mordecai stroked his chin in thought.

"Yeah," Margaret piped in, "we can't just leave them lying on the floor. They'll recover eventually and just continue this sick routine."

"Why don't we chain them to the post?" Eileen suggested. Everyone shrugged unanimously.

Margaret smiled, "Good idea Eileen. Lichen stole this one guy's cell-phone and just called the cops. After that, they can take it from there."

Mordecai and Rigby exchanged grins. "Dude," Rigby said, "I'll get the chains if you gather up everyone at the post."

The blue jay nodded, "Hmm, hmm. It's a done deal."

Rigby went back to the post to retrieve the chains, but it wasn't enough to tie up all the members. The raccoon caught Jasmine and Lichen using the chains to keep Jiggs and Deg down on the floor, as well as battling it out with the very-much-in-the-game Redhead and Mohawk. Other anonymous faces were still faring well.

"Guys, there's still more that need to be taken down," he called out. Rigby ascended upstairs, fortunately finding the chains hidden somewhere in a musty office.

Downstairs, he witnessed Eileen hose down Redhead and Mohawk, while Margaret and Mordecai were hosing down the others. Rigby threw the chains on to the floor as everyone hauled each unconscious thug. Mordecai and Lichen lined most of the members up at the post, whereas Margaret and Jasmine were shoving Sonny. Rigby smirked as the last of them, Redhead and Mohawk, were sitting down and pressed up against that cold, metallic pole.

Everyone took the same chain and began to walk around, the metal rope enveloping the hooligans tautly. Redhead cursed under his breath and Sonny's eyes shot daggers at the victorious Margaret and Lichen. The warehouse was still damp from the sprinkler invasion. Everyone grabbed another chain, and another, until the arsonists were secured for sure. The raccoon dusted his hands off in triumph. He finally took notice to his surroundings; one could feel swallowed up in the vast openness of the warehouse. He was just too busy running for his life to even care.

Outside the warehouse, the constellations glittered dimly in the sky, and the moon shone faintly. The sky was not pitch-black, but evening had arrived. Lichen had thanked Rigby and Eileen twelve more times before finally leaving to return home. Margaret sighed, crossing her arms. "You guys," the robin confessed, "I don't have my money. It was stolen and blown off by this guy called Deg." She shook her head.

"How are we going to pay for the towing services and gas?" Rigby asked, his voice cracking in exasperation.

"I'll pay for it," he heard Jasmine say from behind. Eileen and Mordecai glanced at the woman skeptically. But the smile on her face could not tell a lie. "I'll just retrieve my money out of the ATM and we'll walk over to the gas station."

Ugh, walking. Rigby had hoped that the woman would have offered to drive them to the station, because today showed no mercy on his aching muscles. His legs wobbled with every step, and Rigby wondered how soon before long it would be until they crashed. He didn't bicker or complain about it aloud, but in his mind he was fed up with exerting so much energy. He glanced over at Eileen, who seemed grateful, but secretly _must_ have been sharing the same thoughts.

So they walked. And walked. And _walked._ Jasmine retrieved her money from the ATM. They walked more. And more. And _more._ Mordecai attempted to crack a joke to Margaret. Thud, thud. Feet against the asphalt. Thud, thud. An inferno blazing inside his skin. Thud thud thud. Rigby ultimately couldn't handle it anymore, but that was when they had finally reached the gas station.

As she had promised, Jasmine paid not only for towing, but for the gas as well.

"Thank you, Jasmine," Eileen smiled, sitting atop the passenger's seat of Margaret's car. When it rolled into the gas station corner, everyone had been astonished to find it in working condition. The arsonists did raid some stuff, however, but it at least it could be driven. The mole-girl continued to express her appreciation for the woman's kind deed. "We probably wouldn't know what to do had you not helped us out."

Jasmine merely raised a hand. "I probably wouldn't be _alive_ if you and your friend didn't come out to save the day. It's no problem at all." She waved to the four before turning her back and taking off, heading into the urban core of Flickerton.

He certainly didn't plan for this to happen.

No, Rigby didn't plan to go camping with Margaret and Eileen, but he certainly didn't plan for the entire incident to end up like this: having to rescue Mordecai and Margaret, not to mention battling it out with some flame-from-the-brain human freak.

Although it was unplanned (life constantly worked that way), it strangely wasn't un_expected._ Why did every attempt Mordecai seized at winning Margaret always had to end up in a life or death situation? Whether those two simply weren't meant to be or Mordecai was just made of pure fail, that was just one of the many reasons Rigby had not wanted Margaret and Eileen to tag along.

But yet, he was slightly, _slightly_ glad they did. He _certainly_ didn't plan to be that friendly with Eileen, but there was always a second for everything, right? Before today, she was weird mole-girl who had an annoying little crush on him while still managing to retain her composure. Now she was that weird mole-girl who could outrun arsonists, create foolproof plans to save his bro, and even slap him across the face if need be.

But she was still weird. She'd _always_ be weird.

Now Rigby found himself on the verge of sleep, glad to be back in the leather cushions of Margaret's car. Eileen herself had already dozed off, and Mordecai was growing weary-eyed as well. Margaret, despite her own exhaustion from fear, continued to drive. The highway rolled on, stretching and stretching until it met the sunset at the skyline. Rigby kicked his feet up on Eileen's seat, sinking back in leather cushions. That girl wasn't half-bad.

"See," Margaret yawned from the front seat. The red robin glimpsed over her shoulder to find Eileen asleep. "I told you Eileen was cool."

Yeah.

Not half-bad at all.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 5 of 5.<strong>


End file.
